Saturday, June 19, 2010

It’s in the details

As some of you may know, I recently underwent the house hunting process. It’s a battlefield out there and I’m glad I made it out with as few wounds as I did. The move wasn’t exactly a planned affair so at first I had no idea what direction to head in. Was it time for me to have a place of my own again? Could I move away from my favorite streets here in San Francisco? Would I be able to find a shared place that my life fit into?

For weeks I truly felt like a refugee; knocking on endless doors only to find hoards of equally desperate/displaced individuals begging to inhabit spaces that I can hardly refer to as apartments. It’s amazing how your perception becomes warped when you join the multitude of ‘soon to be homeless’ individuals. I started justifying absurd scenarios … of course it is reasonable for me to construct a Japanese inspired floor unit that would function as a desk, dinner, coffee, and bedside table. It was clear that having the refrigerator in the living room is actually a convenience and wanting windows that open is for bourgeoisie bitches! I’ll spare you my thoughts on the slew of shared apartments I forced myself to look at because I could write a book on the frightening situations that exist behind so many SF doorways.

That being said, the second I walked into my new abode, the crazy that had been flowing through my veins instantaneously disappeared. It was as though I’d been given an antidote to a deadly disease. Looking back, I wondered what it was about this place that made it so immediately right for me. There are the obvious creature comforts that come to mind, yard, washer/dryer, hardwood floors, etc. However, I know those aren’t the things that caught my heart. I happen to be the type of lady that cares more about the crown molding and awkward built in cabinetry. I love my nonfunctional fireplace, and questionably designed light fixture infinitely more than the dishwasher. Even though I can’t claim that the windowpanes are 100% airtight, the old rippled glass make me feel warm and cozy without functionality. I have a freakin pull toilet for Christ sake, who gives a shit if the heating works? I realize that for many people this thinking is ridiculous, but it’s my brand of ridiculous and that’s exactly what makes it home.